


Measuring Up

by Glittermonkey (Schizanthus)



Category: Velvet Goldmine
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schizanthus/pseuds/Glittermonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys, a measuring tape, and an age-old question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measuring Up

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to ff.net back in 1/29/2003.

LONDON -- BIJOU OFFICES -- AFTERNOON -- 1973

Brian frowned, a crease appearing in his normally flawless brow as he scrutinised Curt's lap. "You know," he began, trying unsuccessfully to keep disappointment from tingeing his voice, "for some reason, I imagined it would be much larger." A pause of consideration. "And less... you know..." He searched briefly for the appropriate word. "...lumpy."

Curt coughed, fidgeted, then looked back down sheepishly. "Well, maybe it's just bad lighting. Here, try looking at it from this angle." He shifted a bit more to the left, trying to catch the sunlight pouring through the open window.

"No, no..." Brian tilted his head to one side disbelievingly, and regarded it again. After a moment, he shook his head vehemently. Another dark look crossed his face. "No, that didn't help at all."

Curt shrugged helplessly. He'd never had this problem before.

With a sigh of supreme discouragement, Brian stood up, threw aside the measuring tape he'd been wielding, then flung himself into a nearby armchair. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. I just don't think I can bring myself to be associated with something like..." He nodded over in Curt's general direction, not even able look at it directly. "...that. People would just laugh!"

"I think you worry too much about what people think. I don't see anything wrong with it at all... it's kinda cute."

Brian made a sound which might have been a snort. "It just doesn't look, well, dignified. At all."

"I think you just feel like picking on something. I'm sure it's one of those things that you'll grow more fond of over time."

Brian huffed a bit more, not liking Curt's tone. Not many people had the nerve to tell him he was wrong. Because, of course, he wasn't. He glanced over at it again and made a face. "And what about that hideous tuft of hair? Don't tell me you actually like that. It looks unnatural."

"I think it adds character."

A moment of tense silence. Brian's annoyance grew each time Curt denied any problem existed. He'd just about had enough. He got up and paced around the room a little, stopping occasionally to glare accusingly at the object in question. Finally, he exploded. "I hate it! I absolutely hate it! Put that damned thing away. I can't stand to even look at it. It's horrible and putrid. Get it out of my sight!"

"Hey now, there's no need to get mean about it." Curt looked down again, and made a reassuring murmuring noise, smiling indulgently. "It's okay, fella, I still love you."

"Stop talking to it like it's alive."

"Awww, you're no fun. You probably don't even want to hear the pet name I gave it, do you?"

"NO!"

Curt blinked, momentarily taken aback. Briefly, he wondered if Mandy's perpetual PMS was getting contagious. This was no fun at all. He thought real hard, trying to come up with a solution that would get them back on the right track. After a long pause, Curt spoke up again.

"Would it help if I... well, you know. If I went to the people and had them make me a..." he gestured at it. "Given, molded plastic isn't my usual thing, but if it would make you happy..."

Brian looked up, surprised. "Oh, Curt... would you?" A smile ventured back onto his face. "It would mean so much to me."

"Awww... okay."

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Two months later, Britain's leading toy manufacturer announced their newest addition to the Maxwell Demon line of dolls and accompanying accessories, a leather-clad collector's edition Curt Wild figure. Toy enthusiasts and music groupies alike flocked to the stores. Children begged their parents for the deluxe action set, which included miniature canisters of baby oil, gold glitter, and a studded leather collar. And somewhere back in the offices of Bijou Music, one Brian doll in particular wore a very satisfied smirk on its painted plastic face.

-finis-

**Author's Note:**

> This one can be blamed completely on Kheldara (aka Em the Ferret), who in her Jack-induced zeal, dared to suggest that Curt's legend might be larger than his reality. *cough cough* Shame on her. Oh! And also, for Eric, cuz he promised a trade. Tag, you're it! Now get crackin'.


End file.
